


Those Who Mourn

by Reiven



Category: Black Panther (2018), Captain America (Movies), Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Angst and Tragedy, Bittersweet Ending, Gen, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Post-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), Steve Rogers Feels, Thor (Marvel) Needs a Hug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-27
Updated: 2018-04-27
Packaged: 2019-04-28 13:15:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,028
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14450037
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Reiven/pseuds/Reiven
Summary: [Post Infinity War/Spoilers] In the immediate aftermath of the battle, the Avengers, the Guardians and the Wakandans – or what’s left of them, can do little more than mourn everything and everyone they’d lost. Steve Rogers and Thor are not exempt from the realities of war and loss, but it doesn’t mean it ever gets any easier.





	Those Who Mourn

**Author's Note:**

> Just a little therapeutic fic to get us through the catastrophe of Infinity War.

 

Steve is in mourning.

They all are.

The entire nation mourns.

The Wakandans mourn their beloved king and their friends and families that were killed in battle – Steve can hear the melancholic sounds of their grieved chanting from outside the window. Rocket the Raccoon mourns Groot, his tree friend and from what Steve can tell; his closest and dearest companion. Rhodey mourns Tony and Sam, as Steve does. Tony, because no one knows where he is or whether he’s still alive. From what little Bruce was able to tell them, Steve at least knows he’s with the Spider-Man, the Queens kid with a lot of heart that reminds Steve so much of himself, and if that is indeed the case, then Steve thinks he’s right in keeping his hopes up. He mourns Sam because never has one person become such a rock in another person’s life or such a reliable and faithful friend as quickly as Sam Wilson became to him.

They mourn Wanda, a person who’s seen far too many atrocities in her young life and one snatched away too soon. They mourn Vision, a powerful companion and a dependable friend, and their love that didn’t get the chance to truly prosper.

They mourn the lives of the brave Wakandan men and women who put it all on the line without question and without hesitation.

Steve mourns them all, but most of all, he mourns Bucky. He mourns the Bucky he used to be. He mourns the man HYDRA turned him into. He mourns the man he was slowly become, something of an amalgamation of the old Bucky he loved, and the tortured Winter Soldier who walked around with the guilt bearing heavy down on his shoulder. He mourns the person he could have become if his life hadn’t been ended so cruelly along with so many others. But mostly he mourns his dearest friend and the promise he’ll never be able to keep.

Thor, he thinks, mourns most of all.

From what little Thor had actually told of his escapades in the years they’d been apart, he’d lost both his parents, killed the sister he never knew he had; lost his home and half the people he was tasked to protect; lost his hammer and his eye all within a span of a few days, and the most recent loss he suffered was that of his brother.

Steve has no lost love for Loki, however he understands the strength of a brother’s love, whether or not their bond was forged by blood. He loves Bucky like a brother the way Thor loves Loki as a brother and Steve can absolutely understand the depths of that grief. However,  having gotten to know Thanos as intimately as he recently has, perhaps he understands Loki a lot more than he did; perhaps he sympathizes with his motives a lot more than he was willing to do in the past.

Thor’s mourning is great, though he doesn’t cry, he doesn’t wail or scream; he doesn’t hide away to wallow in his grief but Steve can feel it rolling off his shoulders like a blaze.

Thor mourns as Steve mourns as they all mourn.

They lost the battle and the war and the price that came with it is too great to even fathom.

They mourn the dead and the lost, but moreso than that, they mourn the uncertainty that the future holds.

Steve has never felt such an overwhelming feeling of helplessness and loss and for the first time in his life, he just doesn’t know what to do.

So Steve Rogers cries the way he has never cried before. Not when Bucky’s screaming figure disappeared down the ravine on that freezing mountaintop. Not when he woke up in this strange new world and everyone he ever knew or cared about was dead. Not when Peggy died and took with her the last piece of the life he once knew and was so cruelly denied.

Steve cries for Tony and Rhodey. He cries for the Queen and Shuri and Okoye and the Wakandan people who put everything on the line to fight a battle that wasn’t even theirs to begin with. He cries for Natasha and Bruce and Rocket the Raccoon. He cries for Thor because he knows Thor won’t allow himself that one moment to truly and openly grieve.

Steve cries because that’s the only thing he’s able to do. He’s given everything and put everything out there on the battlefield and he has absolutely nothing left in him but his tears.

\--

The nation is on high alert. People are in mourning but their guard remains up. They watch as the seconds tick by, every single one greeted with terse caution and wariness, constantly expecting Thanos to suddenly reappear to finish the massacre.

It’s been hours since the battle ended and night has fallen, blanketing the entire country in a still and terrifying darkness. Hours since the people left behind could do nothing but watch helplessly as their loved one disintegrated right before their very eyes.

Thor’s tight hold on his weapon never once eases. Steve is still decked out in complete battle gear, shields and all. At his side a sniffling Rocket has his weapon and Bucky’s cradled in his arms like a child.

Shuri is at her high-tech console, her hands flying through with speed, skill and precision befitting a great warrior; her eyes scanning through the information flashing past almost too fast for even Steve’s enhanced senses to make head or tails off. She’s looking for an explanation, a solution; _anything_ to explain what had happened and how to fix it. Her back is ramrod straight and her shoulders square, gone is the childlike grin and the witty comebacks; she has her back to Steve and from his position, she looks every bit the sight of calm stoicism and composure. But every once in a while, Steve can see her body language stall as she reaches up to wipe at her eyes and when that happens Steve respectfully looks away to allow her privacy in her sorrow.

Everyone is on their feet a split second before the alarms actually sound, weapons on hand; their terror, rage and sorrow all jumbled up to create one indecipherable emotion as they look to Okoye who informs them that an unidentified ship has just breeched the earth’s atmosphere and is on a set course to land barely a hundred miles North of Wakanda.

They file into the Wakandan ship without word; Steve with Thor, Okoye, Nat, Rocket and a handful of the Dora Milaje. Bruce, Rhodey and the remaining members of the Jabari tribe were left to guard Shuri and the Queen and protect what was left of Wakanda.

They reach the estimated landing coordinates just half a second before the sight of a giant fireball comes barreling through the atmosphere, crashing into the ground at top speed and causing a massive quake that rattles the earth, decimating about two square miles of surrounding forest; leaving it a charred and barren wasteland.

Steve doesn’t know what to expect but somehow he knows it isn’t Thanos – it seems far too impromptu and unplanned to be him. He feels it in his gut and his gut has never lead him astray.

He doesn’t know whether to rejoice or mourn when he’s proven right and the familiar sight of Tony’s metallic red and silver suit catches his eye as it comes crawling out of the wreckage holding an unfamiliar figure at his side. Both look like they’d been put through the absolute ringer and Steve is willing to bet that very little of it is the result of the devastating crash.

The closer they get to each other and the clearer they come into focus, the more Steve realizes that Tony isn’t holding the other person close to his side, more like the other person is the only reason Tony is even upright. Tony’s suit can barely even be called that; whichever (small) section is still a complete piece covering his body is dented and charred and flickering with a constant stream of current passing through the destroyed system.

Steve hears Rocket’s shocked exclamation of ‘ _nebula’_ though he can’t think of any reason to be talking about astronomy at such a critical time.

Steve follows his feet as it leads him forward. Tony doesn’t even seem to be aware of his presence – he doesn’t even seem to be aware that he’s actually on earth until they come within a few feet of each other and Steve finds himself breathing out a soft, “Tony.”

Only then does Tony finally look up.

The look in his eyes Steve can only describe as _devastation_. Complete and utter devastation.

When their eyes meet it’s as if time actually slows down for a beat before coming to a complete halt. But neither can do anything beyond standing there staring at each other. It’s as if neither of them could remember how to function or use their limbs, or even come to process the horrific event they’d somehow survived without even knowing what the other person had been through.

It’s Rocket that breaks the stale silence and brings both of them crashing back down to earth when he steps up beside Steve, regarding the blue skinned woman at Tony’s side.

“Nebula?” he repeats skeptically, only then does Steve realizes that it’s her name. “Wha-Where’d you come from? Where the other morons?” he asks gruffly. Steve doesn’t have to look down to sense Rocket trying to look past Nebula towards the wreckage, expecting _the other’s_ he’d mentioned to suddenly pop up.

Tony shifts his gaze first, staring at his feet before Steve moves on to look at the woman at his side.

She doesn’t say anything, she doesn’t even react, nothing in her expression gives anything away but Steve just _knows_. It’s a terrible few seconds of anticipation, looking towards Rocket to see the realization begin dawning on his as well.

“ _No…_ ” he chokes out, almost like a breath being ripped from his body, as if his entire being had just been deflated by the news. “Gamora? Drax?” he sounds out, none inciting a reaction from the woman. “ _Mantis? Quill?_ ” The tone of his voice gets higher with every name he says, until it sounds more like a choked sob instead of an actual word. “No… No – No – _No!_ ” Steve resists the urge to reach out and offer him comfort because he knows it’s pointless. The only thing he can do is give Rocket space to process everything and maybe even begin accepting the truth of it all. “Fuck! Fuck! Fuck this! Fuck Thanos! Fuck every goddamn thing!”

He begins emptying rounds from both his and Bucky’s weapon into everything in the distance and Steve doesn’t more to stop him. He notices Thor approaching him after a while and finally turns back to Tony, knowing that if nothing else Thor is there to lend him a shoulder to cry on. That’s truly all they can do for each other at that point.

The sound of Rocket’s sobbing in the background is gut wrenching.

“Tony,” Steve calls again, calling his straying attention back to him. “Are you alright?” he asks.

It takes Tony a moment to respond, when his eyes find Steve’s once again, they're glistening with unshed tears. “No, Cap,” he says, without his wit and sarcasm and his usual bravado. Tony looks every bit what Steve feels on the inside. “I’m not okay,” he says, “ _We’re_ not okay.”

Steve doesn’t even have to ask; he heard from Bruce that the kid, Spider-Man had been fighting alongside Tony during the attack in New York and his subsequent absent was a telling sign of where he’d likely ended up.

The empty spot at Tony’s side and the air surrounding him that could only be one of a parent mourning the loss of a child is all the answer Steve needs.

“No,” Steve says, “We’re not okay at all.”

He takes a single step forward just as Tony pulls himself out of Nebula’s hold, catching the man just before he crumples to the ground. He feels Tony’s arms circling around his torso, his fingers digging into the material of his back and he latches on just as fiercely. For the first time in his life, he just stands there unmoving and listens to the sound of Tony Stark sobbing into his shoulder.

He doesn’t look around to see Thor offering comfort to a devastated Rocket or when he moves closer to Nebula and pulls her into a hug that she melts right into despite the reluctance everyone can sense rolling off her. He doesn’t watch them as she cries and as Rocket cries and as Thor swallows his anguish and his pain and instead casts an unreadable look out into the distance.

He doesn’t look around to see Nat and Okoye holding each other close and the rest of the Dora Milaje consoling each other and comforting each other’s immeasurable sorrow.

He doesn’t look at Tony as he rubs comforting circles on his back and keeps his own tears at bay.

He doesn’t look at anything or anyone only the smiling faces of Bucky and Sam in his memories that he desperately latches onto and keeps close to his heart. He looks back on the memories of Wanda and Vision, of fighting the persistent little Queens kid who just wouldn’t stay down. He remembers T’Challa and his kindness and the poise and dignity he wears like a suit of armour. He remembers the brave men and women who fought by his side and gave everything they had.

He _remembers_ because the memories are the only things he has left.

At the same time he remembers the feeling of defeat and hopelessness.  Of desperation and pain. The _agony_ of it all. He forces himself to remember it, to think about it, to feel it in his body and his soul because it’s the last time he wants to feel that way ever again.

They may have lost so much more than the battle, but if there’s one thing Steve Rogers is known for, it’s for his persistence and his inability to just lie down and accept the loss. He doesn’t and he never will. As long as there’s breath in him, as long as his heart keeps beating and his blood keeps pumping he will continue the fight and he knows he’s not the only one who feels that way.

At his side, he can nearly feel the simmering of Thor’s blood under his skin.

It’s as he’d said to Bucky once upon a time ago, as he’d said to Tony almost in the same breath – when it comes to fighting and protecting those who mean the most to him – he can absolutely go at it all day.

The day of the war against Thanos might have already ended, but a new one is already on the horizon, Steve can smell it in the air.

He’s still holding onto Tony, letting him cry his tears onto his shoulder until he isn’t and he’s staring the other man straight in the eyes. His eyes are red rimmed and wet, but the determination in them is palpable. Steve knows his eyes are mirror images of that.  A glance over his shoulder at Thor tells the same story almost as if he can sense the change of the energy in the air.

“Who’s already tired of being the loser today?” Tony says as he physically pulls himself back together.

Steve feels the tug of a smile at his lips and it feels almost foreign. “Took the words right out of my mouth, Tony,” he says.

He feels the prickling of electricity that causes the little hairs on his body to stand on end and turns to see Thor stepping up beside them. The melancholic air around him is gone; in its place is a wide toothy grin that’s become almost a comforting presence. His different coloured eyes however show a completely different side of the seemingly light hearted grin. The look in his eyes is sharp, determined and intense and in that moment Steve thinks Thor looks every bit the god his name says him to be.

The rest of their unlikely little group converge on the small circle they’d created just a few steps away from charred crater and the burning wreckage of the spaceship still sending clouds of smoke up into the stratosphere.

“For King T’Challa and for Wakanda,” Okoye says, twirling her spear threateningly between his fingers, “I want to kill this periwinkle son of a bitch.” 

“I think I should call Clint to finally get off his ass,” Nat says with a smirk. Steve isn’t sure why Nat sounds so certain that Clint didn’t become a casualty of Thanos’s mass genocide but it’s a question he keeps for a later date.

“No one kills my Groot or my group of d-bags and gets away with it,” Rocket says as he struggles to wipe the goopy snot from his nose, likely sounding much more threatening in his own head.

“For Gamora,” Nebula says, pushing out of Thor’s arms and trying to pretend that she’d never even melted into his embrace in the first place.

“Great,” says Thor with a clap, rubbing his hands together like he’d just been offered a great feast, not a trace of his sadness or mourning anywhere in his body language. Steve had to give it to him. He thought he was good at concealing his emotions, but next to Thor he was obviously a sad amateur. “When do we start?”

Steve casts a look at every single face within their little circle, forcing himself to breath in and our as he wills his own thundering heartbeat into something more relaxed. He allows his own smile to form before he says; “Right now,” and that’s all that needed to be said.

They might have lost against Thanos, but they aren’t defeated. And in a fight for the survival of the universe, that distinction makes all the difference.

**The End**


End file.
